This has to be the single strangest junk e-mail I've ever gotten.

Of the matter of snow here. Both of us have grasped
The mortal architect had brought to life,
My keyhole blows a gale
XV. The International Circumpolar Stations: The Greely Expedition
And beyond, the same sound of bees
A rabbit carcass in its stiffened fur.
And he is swathed in ever-petrified dread;

It's almost poetic.

In related news, I'm finally done catching up with all of my e-mails and voice mails. I never thought it'd take so long to get through two months of backlog, but I guess you don't realize how much stuff you get until it all piles up. At least I don't have to worry about it anymore...